


Erstwhile

by ShariDeschain



Series: Batdictionary [4]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, Batman and Robin (Comics), Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics)
Genre: Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-08
Updated: 2018-06-08
Packaged: 2019-05-19 20:14:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,408
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14880476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShariDeschain/pseuds/ShariDeschain
Summary: Erstwhile(adj), Formerly; in the past.Or, the one where bruises on a kid are a far too common occurrence for Jason's liking.





	Erstwhile

“Stop moving.”

In response the kid flinches again under Jason’s touch and tries to give him a dirty look for it, but he seems somehow instantly aware that his usual glare is not as effective with his face almost cut in half and covered in bruises. He still clicks his tongue at him, though.

“Stop touching me then.”

Jason scoffs and grabs Damian’s chin between his thumb and forefinger, effectively preventing the boy from squirming.

“Unless you have recently developed a Wolverine-like healing factor that I don’t know of, I can’t do that”, he answers, while with his other hand he applies a generous dose of disinfectant to the cut that crosses Damian’s cheek up almost to his forehead. Had the kid not had his domino on, he would’ve had to say goodbye to both his left eye and his depth perception.

Damian hisses at the motion and his hand shoots up to grab Jason’s wrist. Little fingernails that feels like angry claws sinks into Jason’s skin, but he doesn’t complain.

“Sorry”, he offers.

“What do mustelidae have to do with this?”, Damian retorts. His grip around Jason’s wrist loosens a little bit, but he doesn’t let go of it.

Jason laughs as he brushes a wet cloth as gently as he can against the kid’s swollen skin.

“Don’t try that shit with me, kiddo”, he teases. “I know you’ve watched all the X-Men movies with your super buddy.”

Another click of the tongue.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Todd.”

“Sure you don’t”, Jason humors him. ”I have to stitch it now. Try to be very still, okay?”

“I’m not a child”, Damian spats at him, but his voice is bland and his words hold less indignation one would be expecting from him. On the other hand, his face is really a mess, and Jason’s been in the business long enough to know exactly how much pain the kid is in. Which is _a lot_.

It’s painful to even look at the brat right now, and had not Alfred personally asked him to look after Damian ( _please, Master Jason)_ , he wouldn’t be here at all, adding necessary pain to the regrettingly avoidable one. He tries not to think about how bad the patrol went tonight for Bruce not to be able to prevent Damian from ending up like this.

It still makes him angry, though. Because if Batman cannot protect his Robin, then he shouldn’t have a Robin at all. (And if Bruce cannot protect his son, then he shouldn’t have a son at all). It’s an old, stale argument. One Jason loses every time. Especially with himself.

“Look at the bright side”, he says out loud, leaning closer to Damian and trying to divert his course of thoughts from the all-too-familiar topic. “You’re going to skip school for a few weeks at least.”

“That _would be_ a good thing”, Damian agrees with a wince, as the needle starts biting into his flesh. “But Father would never let me get rid of that cursed place.”

“Mh, I think this time he will be forced to”, Jason hums, pushing Damian’s hair away from his forehead and working his way down the long cut.

Trying his best to be still (probably in fear that otherwise Jason is going to slip and blind him) Damian only blinks up with his good eye.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, you know”, Jason explains, slowly and without thinking, too focussed on both his handwork and in keeping his mind from wandering too much. “It’s not like you can go out in public like that. Your teachers would call the police or the social services.”

Damian frowns, and Jason stops just in time.

“Shit! Don’t do that!”

The kid swats his hand away and keeps glaring at him with one eye.

“Why would my teachers call the police?”, he asks, somewhat angrily. “I’m going to tell them that it was an accident and-”

“Kid, I can literally count the knuckles of the guy who punched you”, Jason scoffs as he grabs Damian’s face again. “You can’t sell it as anything else, they’re not that stupid, believe me.”

“Believe you on what? I don’t-”

“Do I really have to spell it out? They’re going to think that Bruce was the one who did it”, Jason cuts him off, and by the look he gets in return he feels like he’s just said that the sky is green and the clouds are made out of cotton candy. He raises an eyebrow at the kid. “A child going to school all bruised up, pretending it was some kind of accident in the shower? Kid, this is Gotham. People know how children get hurt here.”

Damian kicks him in the stomach hard and fast. It’s so unexpected that Jason ends up on his knees before even registering the burst of pain.

“What the fuck”, he shouts as Damian jumps down from the gurney and moves away from his reach, suture thread still hanging over his cheek from the last unfinished stitch, but fists already up in the air, ready to fight.

“Father would never do this!”, Damian yells back at him. “How dare you even _think_ -”

“I never said that he would, you little psychopath!”, Jason yells again, propping himself up on his elbow.

“You suggested it!”

“I’m going to kill you”, Jason growls, standing up with a hiss and making his way through the cave and over to Damian. “I’m going to kill you and write on your death certificate “stupidity” as the cause of death.”

“ _You_ are the stupid one!”, Damian retorts with the exact level of maturity one could expect from a thirteen year old.

The angry tears shining at the corners of the kid’s eyes are the only reason Jason stops in his stride and doesn’t retaliate with a few, well deserved swats.

“Father would never do this”, Damian repeats and his voice wavers a little, giving a tilt of uncertainty to a statement that Jason would never, ever, deny. That no one should ever have to deny. Except, perhaps, children who were raised by abusive assholes. Except, perhaps, children who happen to have known the concept of violence before the concept of family. Except, perhaps, children like Damian. Or Jason.

So Jason stops, swears under his breath, rubs a hand over his face.

“Goddammit, kid”, he exhales tiredly, feeling like the biggest asshole ever. “Of course Bruce would never do that. I wasn’t talking about him, okay? I would never say something like that about Bruce.”

“You said-”

“I said _the teachers_ were going to think that. But what do I know? You are definitely not going to the same school I used to. And even if you were, Bruce has enough money to pay for all the legal shitstorm that would follow, so what do I even care, you ask? Good question. The answer is: I don’t. Happy now?”

It comes out a little bit more angry than expected, and it takes a moment for it to click, but when it does, Jason sees it straightaway on the kid’s face. He knows that expression all too well. Saw it before, a long time ago, on the face of the kid’s father too. They’re almost identical, Jason realizes with a pang of something that could be either jealousy or affection.

And one the one hand, it’s a relief to know he’s not going to have to explain to this insufferable, spoiled, little brat that going to school with bruises to hide or justify wasn’t just a Robin thing for him, and that when it comes down to fatherhood there are worse thing than the Batman out there. But on the other hand, Jason’s not sure he likes the idea of having inadvertently overshared something so personal about his own past with the aforementioned insufferable, spoiled, little brat.

The awkward silence stretching between them suggests that Damian’s not very comfortable with the situation either. Which is very understandable, from Jason’s point of view.

“Sorry”, the kid mutters after a few more seconds of embarrassed silence.

“That’s not something you should apologize for”, Jason sighs.

“Sorry for kicking you”, Damian specifies with some reluctance.

“ _That_ you should apologize for”, Jason agrees, massaging his stomach. “And then some. Now come over here and let me finish those stitches. And _maybe,_ if this time you _really_ stay still, I won’t kick you back. No promises though.”

**Author's Note:**

> [Tumblr prompt](https://unavenged-robin.tumblr.com/post/174568362928/idk-if-this-is-already-a-request-but-jason-taking)


End file.
